University of Virginia Library

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CCXXXIII. THE SAME. AT PARTING.

Hymn 43.

PART I.

And let our bodies part,
To different climes repair,
Inseparably join'd in heart
The friends of Jesus are:
Jesus the Corner Stone,
Did first our souls unite;
And still He holds, and keeps us one,
Who walk with Him in white.

Then let us still proceed
In Jesu's work below,
And following our triumphant Head,
To farther conquests go;
The vineyard of the Lord
Before His labourers lies;
And lo! we see the vast reward
That waits us in the skies.

O let our heart and mind
Continually ascend,
That haven of repose to find,
Where all our labours end,
Where all our grief is o'er,
Our suffering, and our pain:
Who meet on that eternal shore
Shall never part again.

O happy, happy place,
Where saints and angels meet!
There we shall see each other's face,
And all our brethren greet.

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The church of the first-born,
We shall with them be blest,
And crown'd with endless joy return
To our eternal rest.

With joy we shall behold
In yonder blest abode
The patriarchs and prophets old,
And all the saints of God;
Abraham and Isaac there,
And Jacob shall receive
The followers of their faith and prayer,
Who now in bodies live.

We shall our time beneath
Live out in cheerful hope,
And fearless pass the vale of death,
And gain the mountain-top:
To gather home His own
God shall His angels send,
And bid our bliss on earth begun
In endless triumphs end.

PART II.

O let us ever dwell
On the transporting thought!
We shall the joys of Jesus feel,
Up to His bosom caught;
We shall His glory see,
In silent raptures gaze,
The Man that hung upon the tree
We shall behold His face.

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Shall soon behold our God,
But not as crucified;
The Lamb His vesture dipp'd in blood
At last hath laid aside:
As God's eternal Son
He now appears above,
And sits upon His dazzling throne
Of everlasting love.

Is this the Man of woe,
Whom glorious now we see!
The Man who suffer'd want below,
And shame, and agony!
Who here insulted was,
And scourged, and crucified,
Hung pierced, and naked on the cross,
And bled, and groan'd, and died!

'Tis He! the Prince of peace!
'Tis He! the Lord of power!
Whom all these shining hosts of His
Their Maker God adore:
He suffer'd in our stead,
That we with Him might reign;
But He shall never bow His head,
Shall never die again.